The Right Direction
by The Black Sun's Daughter
Summary: Eve is certain they're being followed. But not by whom she expects.


They were being followed.

Eve was certain of it now. She'd seen the man two days ago, on her way to get breakfast from Voodoo Doughnuts. Something about him made her more aware of him for some reason. She had learnt to trust that feeling, but she tried not to let it bother her too much. She prickled a lot, walking through the city. Just cross the street and leave it be. But then she saw him again the next day as she was going home, standing up on the bridge.

And tonight, he was sitting in a booth on the other side of the pizzeria, watching them.

He was youngish, probably mid-twenties or so, with dark hair, equally dark eyes, and a pallor that suggested England to her, or something else European. He dressed straight out of the discount bin at a Goodwill, but he was well-groomed, definitely not homeless or vagrant.

Eve watched him without watching, a trick she'd learnt a long time ago, as the others chattered happily, splitting a large serving of brownie a la mode. She hadn't told them just yet, not until she was certain that she wasn't imagining it. She knew that sometimes her military paranoia kicked in hard, and she had to work through it.

"Alright, well, I'm out of here," Jacob said, licking the last bit of melted ice cream and chocolate off his spoon. He stood up and put on his jacket, looping his scarf around his neck. "Jones, you comin'?"

"Yeah, mate. I know a shortcut," Ezekiel replied, got to his feet, and shrugged on his jacket. "Have a nice night, ladies. We'll see you tomorrow."

"You got it. Be good, Jones," Eve replied; she noticed that as soon as they stood up, the man shifted his weight, putting his feet down.

"No promises," Ezekiel laughed; they headed towards the door, still chattering to each other. Once they were out the door, Eve counted three beats, and then the man slid out of his booth and followed. Dammit.

"Cassandra, do me a favor. Stay right here until I call you, I'll be right back," Eve said as she got up quickly, grabbing her jacket.

The redhead opened her mouth, then shut it again at the look on her face. "Yep. Staying right here."

Eve hurried out the door into the brisk night air. She glanced up and down the sidewalk, then spotted Jacob's bright blue hat, the one Cassandra had knitted him for Christmas, just as he rounded a corner. She hurried after them, but she couldn't see the man anymore. Where the hell did he go?

She skidded around the corner and ran down the alleyway. Not a soul in sight. Anxious now, she hurried to the next corner, peering down the connecting alleyway. There was Jacob and Ezekiel, walking along next to each other.

The man was nowhere to be seen, however, though she _knew_ that he had seen him come around the corner just before her.

She looked up and down the alleyway, wondering where the hell he could've gone. Movement drew her gaze upwards. He had climbed up onto a fire escape and had a recurve bow in hand. He pulled an arrow from a quiver across his back and fitted it to the bowstring, drawing back to his cheek. Aimed directly down at her Librarians.

Eve opened her mouth to call out, one hand already on her firearm and knowing she wouldn't be fast enough.

He released the bowstring; she could hear the low thrum of it from where she stood. It struck Jacob in the back square between the shoulder blades…and burst into a shower of golden dust the moment it touched him. He didn't even miss a step. _What the fuck?_ Eve looked back up at the man; he was watching with an eager look, smiling.

Jacob stopped walking and turned Ezekiel towards him with a hand on his shoulder. Eve tensed again, uncertain, but the historian just reached up…and drew Ezekiel into a kiss. And after a bare second's hesitation, Ezekiel leant into the other man, both arms coming up around his neck.

"Well, I'll be goddamned," she murmured under her breath.

"Some people are simply…meant to be together," the man said; Eve startled halfway out of her skin, twisting around to look at him. He had his bow slung over one shoulder now, still smiling a little. And he'd somehow changed out of his discount chic into a surprisingly clean and tidy outfit of black slacks, grey button up, and pinstriped waistcoat with a silver pocket watch chain dangling from the pocket. "You and Flynn, you two figured it out alright. But others just…need a little nudge in the right direction," he added with a tilt of his head.

Jacob and Ezekiel were walking again, but now they were close enough their shoulders brushed, and their hands were clasped tightly.

 _I'll be goddamned,_ she thought again, then turned to look at the man. But he was already gone, vanished again as if he'd never been at all.

A fluffy white feather drifted down through the air where he'd been standing.


End file.
